


What Luck!

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [46]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, HP: EWE, M/M, Multi, Post-Hogwarts, Relationship Reveal, Slow Dancing, matching outfits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Prompt: Matching outfits + “You’ve got to be kidding me”





	What Luck!

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by @ylime94. Originally posted on my [@drarryville](http://drarryville.tumblr.com) sideblog.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Draco muttered, cutting into the conversation without thought. After muttering a quick apology, he left the group and crossed the ballroom to where Harry had just entered.

Harry caught sight of him and smiled, only for his smile to waver as he took in what Draco was wearing. Surprise and then humour danced across his face, and by the time Draco reached him, he was grinning.

“This is gold,” he said, looking Draco up and down more obviously.

“Are you trying to cause a scene?” Draco hissed, gripping his upper arm tight and pulling him to the edge of the room. That didn’t stop everyone from turning and looking, but it made him feel a little less exposed.

Harry laughed and knocked his hand free. “Me? I just did what you asked!”

Draco took in his robes again. He cut a dashing figure, finally wearing formal robes that actually fit and flattered him. With a Slytherin green trim, no less.

“I asked you to get some robes that didn’t look like they were made in a back alley!” he snapped. “How does that translate to getting the exact same robes as me?”

With a shrug, Harry turned and scanned the room. “I wanted to get something you’d approve of. You always get so tetchy about my clothes, and this ball does have particular significance.”

Some of Draco’s ire melted away. Harry was right, he supposed. He did approve. Harry wore the robes better than he did, in fact. But to have accidentally worn the same robes? He could see the headlines now.

All they needed was—

“Neville just got here,” Harry said quietly, tipping his chin towards the door. “But you’re not going to be happy.”

Draco closed his eyes, already guessing. He’d said much the same thing to Neville. His robes hadn’t been so bad, but they’d been too tight after he’d put on a bit more weight since last Christmas, and the fabric didn’t take well to being magically adjusted.

Sure enough, when Draco turned, Neville was making his way over, his face already turning red as he realised they’d all worn the same robes. There was a chorus of whispering already starting, and Draco’s stomach started churning.

“I’m never coming to a bloody ball again,” Neville muttered as he joined them by the wall. “Did you two plan this? It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Harry said, one hand already coming to rest on Neville’s hip regardless of all the eyes on them. “You look gorgeous, love.”

Neville’s blush only deepened, but his sinking posture straightened. With a quick glance at Draco, Neville smoothed a hand down his front and then averted his eyes.

“I had outgrown my old robes. I should have bought new ones a while ago,” he admitted. “I thought Draco would like the green.”

Draco let out a slow exhale as his plans for a dignified evening fell to pieces. Then he smiled, stepping a little closer, but not putting a hand on him like Harry.

“I do. They look stunning on you,” he said, knowing full well how much Neville hated these events. Even more than Harry, and probably why he’d put off buying new robes for so long, like his too-small ones were excuse enough to avoid events.

Harry made an amused sound, shifting a little closer to Neville, leaning up to his ear. “I’m surprised he hasn’t gone pink yet. Look at his hands.”

Draco scowled and deliberately relaxed his hands where he’d balled them into fists. Neville’s gaze darted down, then back up. Draco shook his head a fraction.

“I’m fine.”

Neither of them looked convinced or reassured, but then, they knew how desperately he needed control over social situations like this. Damn their ability to read him like a book.

“We could turn this to our advantage,” Harry suggested, his eyes darting about the room again.

Draco didn’t dare look, and kept the room to his back. He could hear the hushed murmuring. He knew they’d all be looking and wondering what was going on. For all that they’d been allowing the rabid photographers of the press to catch them bumping into each other more often, and even catch them talking for a while in Diagon Alley sometimes, their new friendship was already the talk of polite society, and a joke in less polite circles.

His hands curled into fists again before he could stop himself. “We’re wearing matching robes like some low-class comedy act,” he said, trying to keep his voice down, but hearing a hint of his anxiety in it.

Neville stepped closer before Draco could stop him, close enough that their sides brushed as Neville put his back to the crowd and faced Harry. Draco shivered from the contact, and the knowledge of how much Neville hated having a crowd at his back. But the contact soothed him, and he uncurled his hands again.

Harry kept his back to the wall, but stepped so close that only one step more and they would be pressed together.

“I know you have that whole complicated plan written out, edging us through various appearances, easing the public into the knowledge of what we are to each other,” Harry said quietly, holding Draco’s gaze. “But maybe we should just stop trying to ease them in and make them see us instead.”

Draco stiffened.

“And matching outfits helps us how?” Neville asked, pressing more firmly against Draco’s side.

Harry shrugged, though the easy gesture didn’t hide how tense he also was. “We pretend it was intentional. Come out now. Take turns dancing together. Kiss one another. Stop pretending we’re barely friends with Draco when we’re so much more.”

Cold started seeping through Draco’s torso as if he’d swallowed several glasses of icy water at once.

“You can’t just spring this on him,” Neville hissed, his hand finding and gripping Draco’s on instinct.

Rather than let it go like he should have, Draco only gripped it tightly in return. His heart was starting to race as he thought through all the ways they could do it, and all the ways it could go wrong.

Harry made a hissing sound, and looked around. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “But… just. Aren’t you both tired of this dance?”

Draco swallowed against a dry throat. Merlin yes. But nothing was that simple. Not with who he was, and who they were. That was why they had plans. That was why they were easing in. But even being terrified of abandoning those plans, it was true he was tired of keeping distance from Harry and Neville in public when all he wanted to do was step closer.

“You’re utter pants at dancing, Harry.”

That made Harry smile a bit, and then he crossed that last step between them, his hands rising to gently cup Draco’s cheeks.

“You trust me?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Draco breathed, with no hesitation.

Harry brushed his thumb over Draco cheek slowly, his gaze shifting to Neville.

“It’s more important you go first here, Harry,” Neville said, giving Draco’s hand a gentle squeeze, before letting it go. “Take him out on the floor and show off those robes. I’ll take the second dance.”

The smile Harry gave Neville was soft and warm, and it made Draco want to curl up in bed with them both and forget all about the stupid ball.

“Kiss Neville first,” he said, thinking fast, hurrying to get some kind of control back. To put some order to things. “Kiss Neville, then we dance and kiss, and then Neville and I, and then you and Neville last.”

Harry looked back to him. “You sure? Are you _really_ sure?”

Draco nodded, pulling Harry’s hands away from his face, but keeping hold of one. “You two will end up stumbling about and laughing together, and it will ease some tension that is bound to build the moment we show any form of intimacy.”

“He’s probably right about that,” Neville muttered. “Remember when we danced together last Easter? We almost broke Draco’s favourite vase.”

Harry snorted. “We were drunk. And it would have served him right, since he’s the one who insisted we dance when that awful song came on the wireless!”

Draco smiled. Watching the way they looked at each other always calmed him when he was feeling anxious. It only made it easier to force his chaotic thoughts and worst-case scenarios behind the solid, comforting presence that was his trust in these two men. The trust that they’d have his back through whatever happened.

“Hurry up and kiss so I can go and get my toes trod on,” he said, giving Harry’s hand a little squeeze.

“I’m not that bad,” Harry said, almost like an afterthought as he leaned over and gave Neville a peck. “Won’t be long, love. Stand straight, you look stunning.”

Neville scoffed and gave him a little push. “Flatterer. Save it for Draco’s ego.”

Draco shot him a quick, half-hearted scowl, but turned and started tugging Harry towards the dance floor. His heart was racing again, and abandoning his plans still had his mind spinning, but at least dodging Harry’s feet would be a distraction. And knowing Harry, he would kiss Draco not at the end of the dance when it would be most expected, but at random, surprising Draco and everyone else.

Just the way Draco loved it. Always a surprise and always a comfort, the way it never felt forced or scripted, but just Harry, acting on how he felt and expressing that love he always waffled on about.

“Is it weird I like that we’re all wearing the same robes?” Harry asked, as soon as they found a free spot and stepped close together.

Draco took in the slight tension around the corners of his eyes. As soon as they started moving, he trod on Harry’s foot, and took great pleasure in his pained yelp.

“How did you get Neville to get the same robes without realising?” he hissed. “You utter bastard, this isn’t funny!”

Harry grinned through his wince. “I went shopping with him and made sure he knew they looked best on him, and that you’d love them. I got my own by owl order after. I wasn’t sure you’d be wearing yours tonight though, that was always going to be down to luck alone. Either way, you’d have had the two of us matching.”

“You swine!”

Harry grinned, leaning in quickly and pressing their lips together almost too briefly to even be considered a kiss.

“I’m tired of waiting for the world to know I love you both,” he said, sending a wave of warmth through Draco, and pink to his cheeks.

“You sentimental wanker,” Draco muttered, tightening his grip on him as they moved slower than was correct for the music. Even though they would be only making themselves more obvious, and Draco would be looking like an inept dancer, he was thoroughly distracted. “You could have asked to speed up the plan.”

Harry shook his head. “Sometimes you need a little push, Draco. But I hope I didn’t push too far? The reaction to this will be the same whether we ease into it or not. I’d rather not waste time.”

Draco grit his teeth and broke from the dance altogether, stepping close and pressing the side of his head against Harry’s. He closed his eyes and let Harry sway him. It would look ridiculous. But it would be the last thing anyone would care about with the news they were already revealing.

“I hate the surprise of it. The… the lack to time to…” With a shudder, he held Harry tighter and opened his eyes. Through the other pairs dancing far more appropriately than them, he could see everyone else staring, but beyond them, he could see Neville leaning against the wall, watching them with that soft smile he saved just for them.

The smile Draco usually only saw when they were alone, but always missed whenever they ‘bumped’ into each other in public.

Tension bled away, and he sagged against Harry. “You didn’t push too far,” he said softly. “You’re right. I needed a push. I… I’m tired of waiting too.”

Harry made a relieved sound. “Thank Merlin. I sort of figured you’d hex my balls off. Trodding on my foot is much better.”

Draco rolled his eyes at Neville, even though he wouldn’t know why. It hardly mattered, Neville grinned back, sharing the joke even though he didn’t know what it was.

“Oh, shall I do it again?” Draco asked, pulling back and dragging Harry into a more appropriate position. Emotional turbulence was really no excuse for substandard dancing.

Harry closed his eyes tight in an expression of mock fear. “If you must, my love,” he said dramatically.

Draco snorted and slapped his arm. “Well, now that you know what it feels like, maybe you’ll be more careful about doing it to others!”

“Neville takes it with more grace,” Harry muttered.

“Neville is a saint,” Draco replied. “And a far better dancer than both of us. You two are terrible together because of _you_ , and the fact he’s too nice to force you into trying harder.”

Harry grinned and then let Draco go, stepping back to offer a short bow before gesturing across the room to Neville.

Draco followed the gesture of his hand to see Neville was already weaving expertly through the other couples. Turning back to Harry, Draco raised an eyebrow.

“That was impressively smooth of you,” he said, just as Neville reached them.

Harry just smiled and leaned over to give him a chaste peck. “I’m dying for a drink,” he said. “You two have fun being the best dancers at this ball, and I’ll go start fending off questions so there’s less for you two to deal with.”

Neville stepped up to take his place before Draco could say anything of that.  Harry was already disappearing through the other dancers.

“Do you want to lead, or can I?” Neville asked, before leaning forward to plant a slightly less chaste kiss on his lips. “I know you like leading with Harry, but then, he needs it.”

Draco chuckled. “That he does. You lead, it’ll annoy him.”

“Of course,” Neville said with a laugh.

Taking in his smile, and the way he was standing even taller than before, Draco leaned in and kissed him again. Just because he could. It was a comforting feeling, being able to kiss one of them whenever the mood struck him. And, he supposed, now he could do that any time.

Although, even if it had worked, honour demanded he get Harry back for his stunt. Matching robes. He’d never live down the indignity.


End file.
